Between Bruises & Blooms

I owe you more
than a text message.

More than,
“I’m sorry.”

Because those two words
could never hold
everything
I wish I had said.

I know
there was a season
when every conversation
between us
felt like choosing sides.

You were trying
to hold on
to your brother.

I was trying
to hold on
to my children.

Neither of us
was standing
where the other was.

I understand that now.

I’m sorry
for the moments
where my fear
made you feel
like your love
didn’t matter.

I’m sorry
for every time
I answered
before I listened.

For every conversation
that left you
feeling like
I had forgotten
you were hurting too.

I know now
that while I was grieving
the family
I thought I was losing,

you were grieving
the possibility
of losing your brother.

We were carrying
different heartbreaks.

Neither one
was small.

If I could go back,
I wouldn’t change
how fiercely
I love my children.

And I know
you wouldn’t change
how fiercely
you love your brother.

But I would change
how I loved
my sister.

I would hold you
before I argued.

I would ask
how you were surviving
instead of trying
to convince you
I was right.

Because being right
was never worth
losing you.

I miss you.

I miss laughing
without thinking.

I miss knowing
that no matter
what happened,
I had a sister
I could always call.

I don’t know
what healing
looks like
for us.

Maybe it starts here.

With me saying,

I am sorry.

Not because
I stopped loving
my children.

Not because
you stopped loving
your brother.

But because somewhere
along the way,

I forgot
to remind you

that I never stopped

loving you.

Always,

Your sister.